


strings that tie me softly pry my hands from you

by llien



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Kingdom Hearts III - Limit Cut, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Time Loop, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:41:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22844206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/llien/pseuds/llien
Summary: He never hurt Sora more than he had to, but Sora was a terrifying opponent. He was a jack of all trades, and time had made him a master of them all.It felt unreal, when his heartbeat vanished from Yozora’s hands and Sora was so quiet, unearthly still, cool frost chilling the air around him. He shone like stars. Yozora slid his hand along Sora’s, palm against palm. He placed his ear along Sora’s heart and heard nothing.
Relationships: Riku/Sora (Kingdom Hearts), Sora/Yozora (Kingdom Hearts)
Comments: 17
Kudos: 269





	strings that tie me softly pry my hands from you

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by several tweets theorizing that Sora's in a time loop and every time he's close to waking up, Yozora pulls him back into slumber via crystallization. Definitely owe Toppie for most of this inspiration.
> 
> Title from _love in a song_ — bo en

Yozora slid his hands over Sora’s knees. Like this, he was cold. So cold it wafted off of him gently, chilling Yozora’s skin. Every single inch of him was pure crystal, shattered on the inside in millions of thin white lines that produced fractals, so that all the light in the world condensed inside him like a supernova. It made Yozora’s pupils sting as they forcibly dilated to adjust, and it felt almost as if Sora was still moving, like a human statue, chest reaching up as Somnus cradled him in giant hands, Sora limp between his fingers.

Yozora stood on tip-toe, frozen burning scalding white-hot hands sliding up Sora’s thighs for balance. He stretched, he tilted his head up. He closed his eyes, sighed and felt that momentary warmth of his breath sucked into Sora’s cold essence. His lashes brushed what felt like porcelain.

Sora’s lips felt even colder against his own.

He tilted his head, and wished for just a moment that this was true love.

But Sora didn’t wake up, and Yozora knew this wasn’t what he was meant for.

/

_ “Why?”  _ Sora cried, grimacing as his eyes shone. He slashed his keyblade in the air violently, as if he’d tried to sever something there in half in one clean cut. The violence in that gesture made Yozora shudder. “We don’t have to fight!”

“Every single time,” Yozora murmured, licking his lips before sighting Sora within the crosshairs of his weapon. Sora stilled, and then, for some unknown reason, he looked betrayed.

His lips mouthed  _ please  _ as Yozora pulled the trigger, and that supernova almost burnt Yozora with its intensity as Sora was ripped into the air with the force of his crystallization.

/

Yozora was on his back, Sora hovering over him with tears in his pretty blue eyes. They were unearthly, unreal — they belonged in an entirely different universe where the sea was drowning in saturation too vivid to be real. 

A tear drop landed on Yozora’s cheek, achingly warm where he was so used to the chill of Sora’s touch, and Sora openly wept.

“We could be friends!”

Yozora reached up and cupped Sora’s face, and his breath hitched. He blinked rapidly, wet lashes sending more tears onto Yozora’s face. He thumbed away a few, and Sora seemed transfixed by whatever expression Yozora wore.

His hands drifted down, and his grip tightened.

The kiss this time felt somehow even more cold.

/

_ “No!”  _ Sora snarled, and he heaved his keyblade up and slammed it down so hard into the ground it ruptured apart like an earthquake. The strength of his attack sent tendrils of sunlight-bright energy snaking through the shattered cement that stung where they lashed at Yozora, and Sora was moving fast, faster, whirling and anger in his eyes, white-hot fury shackling his sympathy and kindness and revealing the rage inside him that festered deep in his soul.

Yozora took the hit, and seeing that rage exponentially increasing as regret registered and horror and self-hatred, and Yozora grabbed Sora by the collar and wasted no time in driving his blade home. Sora’s body was malleable and soft as he gasped, hands scrabbling at Yozora’s arms.

He hated that look of relief that followed, and for once was grateful for the serenity of cold crystal.

/

Yozora slipped, once. Normally, he made sure his blows were in areas that bled fast, hopefully even straight to the heart if he could manage it, but Sora was fast and hard to pin down to always ensure a quick, painless sleep. But just once, he slipped.

His projectile hit him in the clavicle, shattered the bone and pierced his throat and Sora drowned in his own blood before he died, but Yozora still cradled him in his arms as Sora wept and watched him. A bloodied hand touched Yozora’s cheek, thumb catching his tear the same way Yozora had once done for him, not that Sora remembered.

Then, his hand dropped to his chest. He tapped his heart twice and gave Yozora a watery smile. 

That time, the formation of a star felt even brighter through his glassy, dutiful stare.

/

When Yozora took Sora’s keyblade, it felt alive in his hand. Sora’s heartbeat thrummed erratically with fear, an ecstasy in Yozora’s palm, flush against his own so that he could close his eyes and sigh as it lay flush against him. He thought about what it might actually be like to cradle that heart. He could do it. It didn’t matter how he hurt Sora — what limbs broke or how much blood was lost or what bruises lingered on tan skin. Every night was a new dream, a Sora scrubbed clean and stitched back together, slipping through Somnus’ fingers like grains of sand or water, glaring at Yozora and saying his name  _ like that,  _ breathy and angry and intense and filled with all the emotion in Sora’s heart that beat along with Yozora’s.

He never hurt Sora more than he had to, but Sora was a terrifying opponent. He was a jack of all trades, and time had made him a master of them all. 

It felt unreal, when his heartbeat vanished from Yozora’s hands and Sora was so quiet, unearthly still, cool frost chilling the air around him. He shone like stars. Yozora slid his hand along Sora’s, palm against palm. He placed his ear along Sora’s heart and heard nothing.

/

The battle had gone on longer this time. In fact, it’d steadily been going on longer since the start. Yozora thought he’d been imagining it, but no— his body in real life was desperate to wake up, but he couldn’t leave until Sora was put back to sleep. 

Sora felt stronger somehow. His blows hit harder, faster. He’d recalled his grand magic, summoning thunder that decimated the area and left glowing nexuses of light that stung straight though the soles of Yozora’s boots and singed him with electricity that ached in his bones. It took all Yozora had just the avoid the majority of his attacks and to bear the brunt of those Sora was too clever and quick with, but in the end, it wasn’t even that Sora had overpowered him.

Yozora had simply made the mistake of looking at his face and thinking how much he wished this would end. Too many dreams, too many cold kisses, too many wishes.

A meteor fell and shattered the foundation between their feet with its impact. Riku was a shooting star, and he emerged from the wreckage with dazed eyes, dazzling light drifting around him. He turned in place to find Sora, and Yozora lowered his blade as they reunited, Sora crying Riku’s name with so much joy that Yozora was rooted to the spot.

He’d never seen Sora smile like that. His heart ached with how much he loved.

In the end, Yozora woke up gasping and coughing, Sora safely back in slumber and Yozora paying the toll once again as Riku worked up the strength to find Sora once more. 

He hoped that maybe one day, they could be friends. Maybe one day, Yozora would know what it felt like to kiss his smile.

**Author's Note:**

> twitter | _oathbreaker
> 
> Someone's singing to you, in a song  
> A mantra often told, a cross to lay upon;  
> The strings that tie me softly pry my hands from you  
> To steal away before the night is through
> 
> Love in a song, I stand among the crowd prepared to sing along;  
> The dusty air congeals, a lump that seals my truth  
> But I won't hear it anymore


End file.
